


The Little Things

by al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Patrick Brewer is Gay, Patrick Brewer is tiny, and david LOVES him, but it’s not a sex thing, soft boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons/pseuds/al_ex_an_d_er_hamiltons
Summary: Patrick’s brain kept replaying David’s words about hislittle apron. It was far from the first time that David had pointed out the diminutive nature of some of Patrick’s features and belongings.Or, David constantly refers to Patrick’s lil foot, his lil bed, his lil voice. Patrick feels some type of way about it.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 49
Kudos: 218





	The Little Things

“Well this is a sight for sore eyes.” 

Patrick smiled, turning to see David coming in the door of his apartment. David dropped his bag on the couch, striding over to wrap his arms around Patrick’s shoulders. “What are you making?” 

Patrick switched off the stove burner, turning in David’s arms to lean against the counter and settle his hands on David’s waist. “Chicken piccata and angel hair pasta,” he murmured, dropping a kiss onto David’s collarbone. 

“Mmm,” David hummed appreciatively as he stepped back slightly. His eyes raked over Patrick, and Patrick felt suddenly self conscious. 

“What?” He asked warily. 

David shrugged, a playful half-smile on his face as he ran his hands across Patrick’s shoulders, down his arms, and up his chest. They finally came to rest near his hips, his fingers hooked in the pockets of the soft, striped blue linen apron Patrick had on over his clothes. It was a recent acquisition, sent by his parents in their latest care package when he mentioned he was taking a cooking class in Elmdale. 

“You just look so cute in your little apron,” David said softly, tugging gently on the pockets. “It’s so sweet and... _domestic.”_

“Okay,” Patrick scoffed and rolled his eyes, shrugging the comment off even as it inexplicably set his heart beating a little faster in his chest. He dropped another kiss onto David’s skin, at the spot beneath his jaw that was perfectly within reach, before tapping David’s hip twice to signal him to move so he could finish up dinner. David lingered nearby, and Patrick half-listened as David filled him in on Roland’s latest horrifically revelatory purchase- multiple bottles of massage oil. (“ _Multiple,_ Patrick!” David recounted with a full-body cringe.)

As David went on, Patrick’s brain kept replaying David’s words about his _little apron._ It was far from the first time that David had pointed out the diminutive nature of some of Patrick’s features and belongings. He frequently commented about how handsome Patrick looked in his _little baseball costume_ or asked what he could do to get rid of his _little pout_ after one of Patrick’s teams lost. 

“You do that a lot, you know,” Patrick said quietly a short time later, his eyes on his plate. He smiled softly, feeling somewhat fidgety and twirling his fork through his pasta. 

“Do what?” David furrowed his eyebrows, taking a bite of chicken. He’d been making frankly indecent noises of appreciation all through dinner, which Patrick felt made the price of the cooking classes worth it. 

“Refer to my things as ‘little,’” Patrick chuckled softly. “My little apron, my little bed.” 

“Well, there’s _one_ thing of yours I’ve never called little-“ David waggled his eyebrows suggestively, shimmying in his chair. 

“ _Okay,_ David,” Patrick interrupted firmly, feeling his face flush. 

David snorted inelegantly, and Patrick rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” David tucked his lips between his teeth, looking somewhat chastened but unable to hide his smile entirely. “I don’t mean to demean you, or be patronizing, or-“ 

“David, _no,”_ Patrick leaned forward, hoping his expression was as earnest as he felt, and reached across the table to cover one of David’s hands with his own. “That’s not- I kind of like it, honestly,” he confessed, feeling sheepish. 

David raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Oh?” he leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his wine and apparently waiting for Patrick to continue. Patrick pulled his hand back, leaning back in his own chair and scratching absently at a divot in the tabletop. He struggled to articulate his feelings sometimes, especially ones as nebulous and difficult to understand as these. But David was patient with him, as always, and gave him time to find his words. 

“It’s just. With Rachel, and the other girls I dated, they were always smaller than me. It was always sort of assumed that I’d, you know. Be the big spoon or be the one to lead while slow dancing, or…” Patrick grasped for another example, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Be the one doing the carrying during a piggyback ride. Or whatever.” 

David looked at him curiously, and Patrick felt like he was doing a poor job of explaining what he meant. Pushing himself back from the table, he crossed to David’s side and pulled David’s chair back. 

“I’m not done eating,” David whined, gazing longingly at his half-eaten plate of food. 

Patrick rolled his eyes. “No, I know. Just- here,” Patrick settled himself onto David’s lap, his legs off to one side, and David’s arms wound around him immediately, like it was second nature. 

“This,” Patrick murmured. “This is what I love. I can sit on your lap, or you can sit on mine, and it’s not a big deal. I can be small and don’t have to worry that I look weak, or vulnerable. I feel like I’m...safe? With you? I’m sorry, I’m probably not making any sense-“ 

David’s gaze softened and he shook his head, a smile tucked into one corner of his mouth. “I get what you’re saying, I think. I like it, too, that there isn’t this expectation for one of us to always be more- masculine, or whatever?”

Patrick sighed, nodding and feeling relieved. David’s arms tightened around Patrick’s waist as he softly pressed a kiss to his lips, a sense of safety and rightness settling into his chest. He knew David well enough to know by now that they could talk about things like this freely, with no fear of judgement. But old anxieties and habits die hard, and Patrick found himself still grappling with how to communicate on occasion. He sat in his boyfriend’s lap for a moment longer, kissing him gently, feeling secure in the knowledge that it would always be okay to bring these things to David. 

The cozy moment was interrupted, however, when David’s stomach rumbled loudly. Patrick pressed one final kiss to David’s lips, chuckling against his mouth before pulling away and returning to his own seat. “Finish your dinner, David.” 

* * *

“You are, you know. Safe with me.” 

They were curled together in bed later that night, Patrick having just clicked off his bedside lamp and pillowing his head on David’s chest. 

“Hmm?” He pulled back to look up questioningly at David, who shrugged in that way that meant he was trying to be nonchalant but actually cared a lot about what he’s saying. 

“During dinner earlier. You mentioned something about how you feel like you’re safe with me. I just wanted you to know that you are. Always.” 

Patrick swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat, knowing just how much David meant what he was saying. He leaned up to kiss David fiercely, hoping it would relay what he was feeling, too overcome to say anything in response. 

David hummed contentedly when Patrick pulled away with one final kiss a moment later, then snuggled back down against his chest. He could hear David’s heart beating, felt the rumble of laughter in his voice as he spoke again. 

“But if you think _I’m_ ever going to be the one giving _you_ a piggyback ride, you are incorrect. Little or not, I’ve seen what your thighs can do. You’ll be the one carrying me, thank you very much.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little fluff piece that’s been bouncing around in my head for a few months. Enjoy, and happy new year! XO


End file.
